Peter Pan, by J.M. Barrie

As I read this novel today many things struck me as interesting, primarily the forward written by Susan Cooper, whose mother attended a matinee of the original production of the play in 1904. Ms. Cooper then details Barrie's life, the loss of parents he knew, the loss of children whom he referred to as "my boys," and the origin of Peter's eternal youth. It was a beautifully written and revealing story, and provided many points to ponder as I read through Peter Pan.

As a child, my least favorite part of the Disney film was the scene where Tink lights up Pan's face as if he's wearing a mask. I felt he looked so sinister, so unlike himself.

Little did I know that this is much closer to Barrie's portrayal of Peter, who leaves bodies in the wake of most of his adventures and is "frightfully happy" when on the hunt. As I read the book I considered the story to be that of a child's imagination, where in fact they do kill the 15 pirates, because of course the good side wins! Not everyone is quite as unaffected by it though: I thoroughly enjoyed this gentleman's unsettled review.

I also enjoyed the week-long postings of Jonathan Auxier, including Day 5's guest post by a Barrie connoisseur.

The book is full of contradictions and Tinker Bell is one of them. She has a favorite swear word, is as unrefined as she is refined, and is forgotten by the time the book ends - Pan can't remember her.

The major points I found Barrie conveying throughout the novel were threefold:
1. Children are innocent, and thus heartless. Barrie details many times that children know just how much their parents love them, and so the child will do things in their own interest that wound the parents. (Such as going to the Neverland for weeks and leaving their parents to mourn.) The child, not knowing the depth of the wounds they inflict, comes back and claims love in the open arms of their parents, expecting that it would be exactly so. And as parents, we do not teach them otherwise, for it could not be otherwise. Thankfully, our own existence as children of God also follows this pattern.

Viewing the actions of my own child with this perspective helps me to be more patient and understanding. My child has incredible love for me, but not enough experience to know what it means to be wounded. And I would have him wait as long as possible to learn it.

The closing phrase of the novel is "so long as children are gay and innocent and heartless." Barrie was definitely driving this point home, and I think the deaths of the children in his life made him feel keenly the depth of both a parent's love and despair, though he was not a biological parent himself.

2. Adults are silly. One of the lost boys has a single memory of his mother: She would frequently ask his father for her own cheque-book. And John teaches Peter Pan how to be a father, after which point Peter complains that his "old bones would rattle" if he were to dance with the children. Wendy, for her part, later tells him that because of their large family, "I have now passed my best, but you don't want to change me, do you?" Did Wendy once hear her mother say that to her father? Goodness, the things emulative play reveals about us...

3. If we knew what was about to happen to us we would act differently. I suppose the omniscient narrator mainly taunts us by revealing things to come and suggesting that if someone had just changed one action, the entire situation would have been avoided or turned out differently. While it keeps us engaged in the story and makes us think up tangential story lines, it also provides the reader an opportunity for reflection.

In my own life, have there been times when simply leaving the room would have changed the course of history? Or perhaps if I had known who stood around the corner, I might have continued rather than taking a different path? But we are not omniscient narrators in our own lives, and cannot know, and thus must make the best and kindest choices we can based on our own intuition and the promptings of God's spirit. And yes, Mr. Barrie, we should refrain from snapping at all costs, because it may be the last phrase that passes from our lips. But we are only human.

More obvious themes that I found new reasons to love:
1. Mothers
Hook mourns the loss of his chances at ever getting Peter because the boys had found a mother. Smee has to ask what a mother is.

"As the pirates looked they saw a strange sight. It was the nest I have told you of, floating on the lagoon, and the Never bird was sitting on it.

"See," said Hook in answer to Smee's question, "that is a mother. What a lesson. The nest must have fallen into the water, but would the mother desert her eggs? No."

2. Story-telling
"Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories."

3. Make-believe
Peter carried make believe to the point that he could decide whether any meal was to be make believe. Peter believed so strongly in make-believe food that "during a meal of it you could see him getting rounder. Of course it was trying, but you simply had to follow his lead." But if it one of the lost boys could prove to Peter that they were getting thinner, he would let them eat real food. Even children understand the far limits of pretending.

4. Adventures
Adventures were a daily occurrence, often signified by someone later finding a body. Murder (or "ripping," in the case of Hook) is routinely engaged in, and found to be an every day, run-of-the-mill part of adventures. The biggest adventure is Pan's encounter with death, which he faces with the thought "To die will be an awfully big adventure."

5. Growing up
At the end of the book, Wendy's daughter asks her why she can no longer fly. Wendy answers that it is because when people grow up they forgot the way.

"Why do they forget the way?"

"Because they are no longer gay and innocent and heartless. It is only the gay and innocent and heartless who can fly."